


Black Gloves

by new_groovee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Dark fic, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Obsession, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8972947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/new_groovee/pseuds/new_groovee
Summary: Everything seems simple in Kuroo and Kenma's lives, until a serial killer in Tokyo threatens to break everything they've built together. Now they must either uncover the truth or bury it to keep the people they love the most safe, including each other. But with Kuroo becoming more obsessed with his work and dark thoughts prodding Kenma's mind, this just might break them.





	1. Wild Horses

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of don't want to add that many tags at the start of this, because that'll just ruin everything, but I promise to try to be diligent with tags by adding some before every chapter. Just be aware that this is a dark fic, so death and gore will be common, I won't tag that for every chapter. Other than that enjoy.

“Kenma,” Kuroo said as he pulled his pants on, buttoning them with one hand and using the other to gather his things. Kenma didn’t stir from where he laid in the bed, his breathing was so slow that if Kuroo didn’t know him as well as he did he would have thought the smaller boy was dead. “Kenma. I’m about to go to work. I made breakfast, it’s in the microwave. I should be back at my regular time, but I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

                Still no response from the smaller man who was currently wrapped in the thick blankets. Only a few strands of blonde hair and a patch of pale skin that was his nose peeked out of the bed. If Kuroo wasn’t running as late as he was, he would have tugged the blankets off of Kenma until he was forced to acknowledge him. Bokuto would understand if he was a couple minutes late, but his boss wouldn’t. Daichi wasn’t a very strict boss, but he was a timely one, and Kuroo’s track record wasn’t the best concerning timeliness. It was due to moments like these; where he wanted to cling to his small boyfriend and wrap him in his arms, snuggle his head into Kenma’s hair and kiss him awake.

                “Kenma,” Kuroo purred, leaning over the bed until he was inches away from where the smaller’s ears were, “I love you.”

                A small pleased sound was his only reply and Kuroo smiled, pulling back after being satisfied from the small acknowledgement. He left the room after that, having collected his badge and holster that already had both his guns in it. As he walked out into the living he strapped the holster on and turned to pull on his jacket.

                Their apartment was a decent size in a decent place. Kenma wasn’t one for flashy and with Kuroo’s work schedule a very big apartment would just seem lonely. They settled for a two-bedroom apartment, even though Kenma mostly slept in Kuroo’s bed. They had a nice size kitchen and a spacious living room. They had an extra room that sat in the corner of the apartment that was too small to be a bedroom. It had lots of natural lightening so they used it as an office and workspace where Kenma usually liked to spend his days working. The room was even attached to a balcony that looked out onto the city street, a nice view of cars driving by or of simple city life.

                They had done good for themselves. Kenma was happy and Kuroo was just happy waking up to the boy every day. There was nothing he could wish for. _Well, except maybe a couple more minutes curled up next to Kenma_ , he thought as he locked his apartment door.

                The drive to work was as routine as usual. He stopped by a local café to get coffee, maybe another pack of cigarettes if he was running low for the day, but then a couple minutes later he was pulling up to the station, parking in his usual spot and greeted by the usual hustle and bustle of a large city police station. Daichi, his boss, gave him a simple eyebrow raise that said _Late again, Detective Kuroo_ , but Kuroo just gave him a smirk in reply.

                “Kuroo!” He was a second too late, and didn’t have enough time to pivot on his other foot to avoid the onslaught of silver and black that was his best friend and partner. His coffee was almost knocked out of his hands, but he kept a firm grip on it with one hand while the other grabbed onto Bokuto’s shoulder to brace himself. “Kuroo, you won’t believe it!”

                Kuroo chuckled. “Believe what, Bo?”

                Bokuto took a huge breath, a smile spreading across his face as he prepared to shower Kuroo with good news. “It’s Akaashi,” Bokuto said, “he came back last night and waited in the apartment to surprise me. You don’t know how excited I was to see him after all this time, man.”

                “Shit, that’s great, man,” Kuroo said patting him on the shoulder. “You guys have to come over for dinner or something. I’m sure Kenma would be excited to see Akaashi after all this time.”

                Bokuto nodded his head with vigor. “Yea, that’s what I was thinking. How about Wednesday night? I kind of want to do something special for him tonight and give him some time to settle down after being away for so long.”

                Kuroo took a sip of his quickly cooling coffee. “Yea, in two days sounds good to me. I’ll shoot Kenma a quick text to let him know about it.”

                “Perfect, also not so good news.” Bokuto’s face dropped the wide grin and he stood up a little straighter. “They found a body.”

 

* * *

 

                Kenma reawaken to the sound of his phone going off. At first, he was just planning on ignoring it and going back to get some more sleep, but then it went off again. He groaned, deciding he had to get up at some point, and reached his hands out from underneath the blanket to grab his phone. He peeked at it with half-opened eyes.

**From: Kuroo**

_heyy, so Akaashi’s back in town. Bokuto and him want to come over for dinner Wednesday. sound good to you?_

Then right after that message is another one.

**From: Kuroo**

_also looks like I might be a little later than usual. love you_

Kenma didn’t reply, just turned his phone off and stared at the ceiling. So Akaashi was back in Tokyo? That must mean his work was finished in whatever foreign country it took him to. Kenma missed Akaashi, having only a few actual friends outside of Hinata. He had Kuroo, but they had been passed that line between best friends and lovers, and he enjoyed Bokuto’s company whenever the loud man was over their place, but there was a special place for Akaashi in his life. Akaashi was a kindred spirit, someone he could easily enjoy his time with.

                He sat up in the bed, stretching his arms so the too big T-shirt fell loosely around his shoulders as he swung his bare legs over the side. He remembered Kuroo whispering about breakfast in his ear before he left and Kenma walked with a purpose. He could smell it before he even turned the corner and opened the microwave to see fluffy pancakes awaiting him with caramelized apple slices sitting on top. Kuroo must have been in a good mood from last night to make Kenma’s favorite. _I should ride him more often_ , Kenma thought as he waited for the food to heat up. He drowned the pancakes in syrup and wasted no time eating them at the kitchen island, only stopping to pour himself a glass of juice. When he was done, he loaded the dishwasher and cleaned the pans Kuroo used. He checked the time, not even ten, and he didn’t have to be at the shop until noon.

                He took a shower, rinsing all of last night’s activities off of him and relishing in the feeling of the hot water hitting his pale skin. He felt whole this way, skin bare and being pelted with hot water. If he could stay like this for the rest of his life, he would. There were many things he would do if he could, and standing like this in that moment was one of them. But it could only last so long, because water bills were a thing and Kenma had to get ready or he would turn into a prune. After reluctantly getting out he got dressed and brushed his duo-colored hair. It had grown over the years, now reaching a little past his shoulders so the blonde was about half way up his face before it turned into his natural brown. He didn’t care to trim it or dye it and Kuroo didn’t complain about it, actually he liked his hair longer, so Kenma saw no need to change anything with it.

                The only bad thing about it was probably that every time he came into work he looked like just another punk, especially when Terushima was sitting behind the desk, feet up and a magazine perched open, like how he was today. “Kenma-chan!” Terushima sing-sang. Kenma crinkled his nose as he walked into the shop and put his bag behind the desk next to Terushima’s chair. “Your client isn’t here yet, so you have some time, do you want some donuts? There are some in the backroom.”

                Kenma just shook his head, going to check the clipboard that had the appointment lists on it. There were three more since the last time he’d been there, but thankfully they were scheduled for next week. He wouldn’t have to meet any new faces until he was done with his current projects. And he had only one long-term project so his workload wasn’t that huge. It was the start of the new year so everyone was blowing their Christmas money on impulse. Kenma wasn’t complaining, these lapses in impulse control were what paid the bills, and if he wanted longer showers then he needed more lapses.

                Not twenty minutes later his client walked in, removing his scarf from around his neck as he greeted the two at the desk.

                “Ah, Kozume-kun, sorry I’m late.”

                Kenma just nodded and grabbed his bag, leading the man into one of the backrooms that was his workspace. He sat his bag down at the small desk. He pulled out a medium sized sketchbook and turned to face the man as he sat down in the reclining chair.

                “I made some alterations to the original drawing you showed me on your first visit. Please let me know if they are up to your standards,” Kenma said as he opened the sketchbook and turned to the page he had drawn recently. It was of wild flowers growing around a sword, the handle of the sword being almost covered completely by it and different kanji itched into the blade. The man took the book and scanned it, taking over every detail, a smile beginning on his face.

                “Yes, thank you, I love it. I like the change of wild flowers you used here.”

                Kenma turned away to start preparing his tools. “I thought a traditional rose would seem immature with this piece,” he said softly. “Especially with the kanji you picked to accompany it and their meaning. I got the impression that you were going for something different.”

                “Yes, of course. It seems you read right through me with that one. I am grateful, I wouldn’t have been able to convey what I wanted without you helping me pick out the smaller details.” The man chuckled to himself. “I really like it a lot.”

                Kenma didn’t respond for a long time, just quietly getting his tools prepared and the ink he would need before turning around the face the man. “Since this is a larger piece we need to do two separate appointments because of the swelling. Would that be okay with you?”

                “Yes, yes, you know best.”

                Kenma nodded and then turned back to face his desk. He slipped on a pair of black gloves and flexed his fingers. “I’m going to need you to take your shirt off and lie down for me,” he said as he reclined the chair into a 180-degree position. The man did what Kenma said and faced the other side of the wall as Kenma sat down in the chair next to him, ready to start crafting artwork.

 

* * *

 

 

                The news of another dead body never surprised Kuroo. This was Tokyo, and murder was a common thing in a large city, plus this was his job. It gave him something to do and the high of catching a killer was indescribable. He once tried to explain it to Kenma, but the boy just scrunched up his nose and said he didn’t understand. It was like a game of chess and the culprit always made the first move. Kuroo would start off slow, collecting a few rooks maybe a bishop, but ultimately, he would win with a check-mate. There were multiple ways to win, and that was the thrill Kuroo loved.

                The whole city was his chessboard and every piece of evidence he picked up was another chess piece he knocked off the board. He was good at his job and got to protect the city and people he loved while he was at it.

                Today’s body wasn’t anything unusual. It was a brutal knife wound that probably left the victim bleeding out for some time into the night before finally dying. The knife was discarded a couple yards away from the body. Blood stains marking the path that the victim had attempted to drag herself out of the alleyway, probably trying to call for help but to no avail. The victim was a young girl, maybe just fresh out of college and had some future going. She died clutching her stomach, which wouldn’t have been weird, but the knife had stabbed her on her right side, right between her ribs. Kuroo’s suspicions were answered when they got back to the station; the girl was pregnant.

                He handled the preliminary work with Bokuto: IDing the body through a wallet on the body, notifying the family that lived in the area, learning basic information on the girl, and promising to catch her killer. Kuroo had been right, she had just graduated that winter and secured an internship at some company that would have made her family proud. She was an upstanding citizen, came from a good home, well-educated child with a bright future. When Kuroo dropped the news that she was also pregnant at first the parents didn’t even speak.

                But then the father stood up and turned to Kuroo and Bokuto with anger in his eyes. “What are you trying to say about our daughter?”

                “Nothing sir, but the results have come back positive and your daughter was pregnant. She was just a little under 2 months pregnant and you probably didn’t notice anything with her body changing at this point.”

                The mother still couldn’t speak. Her eyes were red and focused on the cup she held between her shaking hands. The father still fumed, unable to hold his anger. “She never mentioned anything about a boy. We were close, she would have told me if there was a boy she was seeing or something,” the mother mumbled in disbelief. “She would have told me if she was pregnant.”

                After the initial shock wore down it wasn’t long before they had a list of names of associates and friends, anybody who could know about her condition and a possible father.

                “Oh boy,” Kuroo said as he lit his cigarette, “I have a feeling this one is going to be emotional.”

                Bokuto huffed. “You’re telling me. Poor kid was pregnant and hiding it from her parents. I don’t know what’s worst: hearing your only daughter was killed or that so was the grandchild you never knew about.”

                “They probably both suck equally.”

                “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Bokuto mumbled. He didn’t smoke, but he did accompany Kuroo on his smoke breaks, even if it was as cold as it was today. “I just know that the father was furious. I mean, she had such a simple life, and for her to go out in such a way is just… sickening.”

                Kuroo blew out a puff of smoke into the cold winter air. “Well, no life is as simple as it seems, Bokuto. Everyone hides something from everyone else and that’s just the way it works. She was pregnant, she knew she was pregnant and she hid it from her parents. She probably didn’t want to disappoint them.”

                “It still sucks, man.”

                “Yea, it does suck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Wild Horses by Bishop Briggs. Go check her out if you want, it really has nothing to do with the story, but I was listening to it while I wrote it up, so maybe it subconsciously influenced me.


	2. Actualization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo deals with the stress of his new case, while Kenma thinks about the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter out earlier in the day, but I suddenly got busy, so here it is. There's smut in the first scene, but after that it is business as usual. Enjoy.

“ _Kuro_ ,” Kenma gasped out. Kuroo was currently attached to his neck, sucking the skin there red while his other hand wandered down into Kenma’s briefs. He wrapped one calloused hand around Kenma’s hardening length and gave it a quick tug, pulling a breathy moan from Kenma’s lips. “Shit, Kuro.”

                Kenma bit his lip as Kuroo ran his finger over Kenma’s wet slit. His hand felt good around him and he found himself tilting his hips up into it, trying to increase the friction on his member. Kuroo chuckled, pulling back from Kenma’s neck to admire his work. Kenma lay underneath him, clothes ruffled, golden-eyes half-lidded with lust, and pink lips wet and swollen from kissing. This is the way Kuroo liked him. He smiled before pressing hard against Kenma’s lips, tilting his head back with his other hand to deepen the kiss and pushed his tongue into Kenma’s mouth, mapping out the familiar area as he reveled in the sounds Kenma was making underneath him.

                When Kenma was completely hard in his hand, Kuroo released it and pulled his briefs off of his thighs and tossed them onto the rest of the piles of clothes. “Kuro, what happened?” Kenma asked now that his mouth was free and he wasn’t being jerked to full attention.

                “Nothing, I just want to feel you, kitten,” Kuroo purred as he warmed the lube on his fingers. His dark eyes watched as Kenma removed the rest of his clothes, tossing his shirt to where Kuroo had thrown the rest. “I want to be deep inside you.”

                Kenma’s cheeks redden furthered at Kuroo’s words and he looked away, hiding behind his hair. He felt Kuroo shift until he was over him and was forced to peek up at him. Before Kenma could even tell him how silly he was sounding he felt a warm slick finger press at his entrance and he moaned, moving his legs wider to give Kuroo more access.

                Kuroo chuckled again, lightly tracing his finger around his entrance, drawing out the small sounds he could bring from his lover. He kissed Kenma again, this time very slow and passionate as he pressed one digit into Kenma’s tight heat. Kenma’s back arched at the intrusion and Kuroo swallowed down every sound Kenma released. He opened him up slowly, twisting and pushing into him until he could take two. He made sure to stay away from his prostate and kissed him deeply as he added a third finger. By the time Kenma was stretched and ready for him, his legs were shaken and precum was dripping from his hard cock. He leaned back again to admire his handiwork, but the sound of Kenma impatiently saying his name brought him back to reality.

                “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll take care of you soon.”

                He leaned back over Kenma, one hand on his hip and the other wrapped around his throbbing cock as he pressed the head against his entrance. He was hard from the second they arrived in the bedroom and his neglected cock wanted to be surrounded by that heat. He wanted to push into him in one thrust and fuck him senseless, but he stopped himself and slowly pushed in. He felt every inch as he sunk into Kenma, who moaned and gripped Kuroo’s arm on his hip.

                He felt so good around Kuroo and by the time he was seated all the way in, he thought he would come just from the feeling of Kenma all around him. He stayed still for what seemed like forever, fighting every urge to pull out and ram back into this heat, until he felt Kenma shift underneath him, finally adjusted to the pressure of Kuroo filling him up.

                Kuroo slowly pulled out, only leaving the tip buried inside Kenma before he pressed back inside of him. Kenma moaned, hand still gripping onto Kuroo’s forearm tightly as the other was above his head clutching a pillow. When Kuroo looked down he could see Kenma’s legs opened wide for him, head thrown back, eyes closed and just succumbing to the feeling of being slowly fucked by Kuroo. He loved it, just like this. He wanted this forever.

                He repeated that slow motion of pulling out and pushing back in before moving to cover Kenma’s body more, pressing deeper into him and pulled more moans from Kenma. He leaned over him. Kenma wrapped his legs around his waist to keep him anchor inside of him with every thrust. He kissed alongside Kenma’s jaw, using his hand to keep his head tilted up to give him more access to the pale skin there.

                “ _Kuro—fuck_ ,” Kenma gasped out into his ear.

                Kuroo moved the hand that was on Kenma’s hip to grip his cock again. Around him, he felt Kenma tighten as he matched his thrusts with the movement of his hands. He was so close, but he didn’t want this to stop. It felt so good to be inside Kenma. His hips were slamming into the younger one, and he was taking it well, moving his hips up to meet every thrust Kuroo had.

                “Shit, you feel so good,” Kuroo said into his ear. He was rewarded with another whimper from him as he tilted his hips. Kenma let out a cry and he knew he found the spot that would make Kenma come undone. He targeted that area, felt Kenma’s legs shake around his waist and his grip tightening. With a couple more thrusts to that spot and strokes to his cock, Kenma was coming into Kuroo’s hand with a long, loud moan. Kuroo covered his mouth with his own again and continued to pound into him through his orgasm. Moments later Kuroo was coming as well, buried deep inside of him as he came, arms tight around the younger boy’s waist.

                They lay there together like that for moments, just basking in the afterglow of the orgasm. He knew Kenma would be content to fall asleep like that, too lazy to clean up, but he also knew that he would wake up grumpy with come leaking out of him.

                He carefully pulled out of Kenma and went to the bathroom to start the bathwater. He put in a few things he knew Kenma liked and returned to pick up the small boy who was halfway asleep by the time he got back.

                “Hmm,” Kenma moaned sleepily. “That was really good for nothing.”

                Kuro didn’t reply, just slowly lowered him into the warm water before getting in behind him. He wrapped his arms around his waist and Kenma leaned his back on his chest. He knew he wouldn’t sleep now. He wanted answers and Kenma could be patient to wait until Kuroo spoke. It took a while, but Kuroo gathered a washcloth to clean them up and opened his mouth to speak.

                “There was a body today,” he said as he lathered the soap on the cloth. “She was just out of college and she was pregnant. Her parents didn’t even know and now me and Bokuto have to go find the possible father to let them know as well.”

                “You’ll find the culprit,” Kenma said, taking the washcloth from Kuroo to wash himself slowly. “You always do.”

                Kuroo smiled and leaned forward to kiss the top of his head. “Yea, thank you.”

                Kenma made just a small noise, but they got up turn the shower on and actually started cleaning themselves up. After they were done and dressed in clean clothes, Kenma pulled Kuroo to the bed. “Come on, I actually want to sleep now,” he mumbled as he climbed into the bed. Kuroo followed close behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him in close to nuzzle his head into the crook of Kenma’s neck.

                “Don’t think too much about it,” Kenma said before settling into sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

                It was early in the morning and the sunlight coming into the room illuminated it perfectly. Kenma sat with his back to the open window, his hair tied up high on his head to not rest on his neck. He had lit incense and it burned steadily, filling the room with a scent that reminded him of his childhood home. He preferred to work with charcoal, due to the smooth lines it allowed him to make. His hands had black smudges all over it from when he shaded his artwork with his fingers, liking how it turned out better that way. The room was silent, except for the city sounds that filtered through the window. A cold breeze touched the back of his neck.

                Kenma leaned on the stool to admire the piece. It wasn’t for a tattoo, but a local art dealer he occasionally worked with. The guy had found him through one of his older clients. He was working in the tattoo parlor, adding a few details on a sketch for a different client and hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. By the time he realized someone had been watching him a half an hour had passed and he figured it would be silly to address it now, so he simply continued drawing.

                “You have a very fine eye for detail,” the man had said. Kenma didn’t reply, but tilted his head so the man knew he was listening. “And it seems every stroke of you pencil is very efficient, not wasting any movement.”

                He stopped what he was doing and slowly moved golden eyes to look at the man for the first time. The man was taller than Kenma, but not by a lot, and with a slender build. He had ash-grey hair and a beauty mark under his left eye, which were hazel. He smiled down at Kenma, meeting his gaze evenly. Kenma kept his gaze for what seemed like a long time, but after coming to the conclusion that the guy would not budge he turned around to his sketch pad.

                “Are you here for a tattoo consultation?”

                The man chuckled and Kenma’s back sat up straighter. He stopped moving his hands on the pad and listened as the man sat down on the bench in the far side of the room.

                “No, I’m not here for a consultation. I’m here for something else entirely,” the man said. “I feel like your skills are being wasted on such work. Your pieces have some sort of allure to them. Did you know I had actually stopped a man in the street who had a sleeve done by you? That’s how captivated I was by it.”

                “A sleeve you said?”

                “Yes, it went the whole way down the arm, only stopping a little bit before the wrist. It was a black and white piece. It was a scene of a forest through the seasons. You started with spring at the shoulder and ended with winter right above the wrist. In every scene, there was a lone wolf. That’s the piece that had me driving around town looking for you. You had changed tattoo parlors.”

                Kenma turned around to face the man. “Sorry for the inconvenience, but if you’re not here for a tattoo then I don’t know what I could possibly do for you.”

                “I would like to buy your skill set.”

                And that’s how Kenma met the art dealer who owned his own art studio, Koushi Sugawara, or better known as Suga. Suga had courted him for months before he relented, even went as far as to stalk Kenma home. Kenma had returned to Suga in his apartment, eating dinner with Kuroo and a bottle of wine open. His first instinct was to turn back around and ignore the whole ordeal, but Kuroo was quick to shuffle him into the dining room, in favor of Suga’s proposal.

                “All I want is for you to draw for me,” he opened up with. “You can draw anything you want, whatever inspires you, whatever you feel. I just want to capture them on paper and display them in my studio. You will have your own place in my studio, it’ll be a spot of your own, Kenma. Don’t you want that?”

                Kenma scrunched up his nose. The offer did sound nice. He didn’t have a fancy artistic history, never went to school, never travelled and apprenticed under some famous French artist. He was good with a pencil and had a keen eye for capturing every detail. But Suga saw something more in the work Kenma did, he saw the truth. What Suga was holding out in front of him was an opportunity to reveal himself, to possibly expand his horizons. He would be an idiot to decline him, but he hesitated, glanced at a smiling Kuroo before turning back to Suga.

                “I have only one condition,” he said slowly. “I want to use a pseudo name.”

                A small smile creeped over Suga’s face and he nodded. “Yes, if that’s the only thing it takes to get your work in my studio.”

                Kenma blushed and turned away from the two happy men staring back at him. He felt put up on a pedestal. Kuroo, who always supported him no matter what and wanted the best for him, and Suga, who saw his work as more than what was on the surface and wanted the world to experience it as well.

                This was all new. He picked up drawing as a hobby when he was a child and never thought to do more with it. He had a steady hand and unique ideas that got him easy projects and fast pay, so he was satisfied. It felt like everyone he tattooed he left his mark on them. He took new and untainted flesh and stained it with designs that would follow them into the grave. Without them knowing it or not, Kenma was a part of them. He aided in the decision making, he helped craft a piece that was tailored just to them, and he itched it into their skin. He took untouched flesh and he ripped that from it.

                That, in itself, was surreal. He was a creator and a destroyer all in one moment.

                Suga had left his apartment that night, successful in securing another artist for his studio. Kuroo was glad that Kenma was realizing his talents and willing to show them to the world. And Kenma? He was just glad that he was alive to experience it all.

 

* * *

 

 

                Akaashi sat in a café, nursing his drink and watching the light in Bokuto’s golden eyes as he talked about his time while Akaashi was gone. “I really loved going to the arboretum with Kuroo and Kenma-kun,” he said. “I didn’t really feel like a third-wheel or anything, because Kenma was too obsessed with taking pictures for reference, so it was mostly just me and Kuroo. But I really wanted to see it with you.”

                Akaashi smiled. The thought of Kuroo and Bokuto walking through the botanical gardens was endearing. He could imagine them gawking at the flowers as Kenma stood, camera in hand and flashing pictures of various flowers in different angles. Bokuto was probably amazed at everything and had begged Kenma to explain the meaning of every plant that he faced.

                “I would love to go with you, Bokuto-san.”

                He watched as Bokuto blushed deeply and his smile widened further. “Then, it’s decided. We’ll go now.”

                Bokuto jumped up, startling the people next to him, but Akaashi just sighed, gathering his belongings as he followed the excited Bokuto outside the café. Bokuto grabbed his hand as they walked to the car, trying to recite all of the plants that Kenma had told him, as well as their meanings. He stumbled on a lot of them, but his attempt was nice and Akaashi couldn’t stop himself from blushing. Bokuto trying to be affectionate in whatever way was always the best.

                They arrived at the arboretum with only a couple hours before the closing time, but Bokuto refused to call a quit to this impromptu-date. He paid, even though they would only have a short time in the gardens, and was eager to show him as much as he could. Bokuto was like his own narrator, detailing all of the things he learned from his previous trips and even giving his own thoughts on what was around them. His hand never left Akaashi’s and he felt glad to be back with the man he loved.

                “So, we’re going to have dinner with Kenma and Kuroo-san tomorrow?” Akaashi said as they sat by a water fountain. Bokuto nodded absently. “Good, I brought them back some new gifts from my travels. I wanted to give them their gifts as late presents. I hope they don’t mind.”

                “You’re so thoughtful.”

                “I try to be. Kenma and Kuroo-san are dear friends of ours and my work keeps me away for most of the time. The least I could do is bring back souvenirs for them.”

                “I’m sure they’ll enjoy it no matter what it is.”

                Akaashi nodded. “I really did miss you, Bokuto-san. I’m glad I was able to come back to Japan early enough to spend this time with you.”

                Bokuto grabbed his hand firmly. “Me too. Talking to you every night helps, but having you here with me is always the best.”

                “It’s the best for me as well.”

                Bokuto was about to open his mouth to say something, but his phone went off. Akaashi nodded and gave him a small smile, this was his work, and he had no room to complain about consuming jobs when his work had him out of the country for most of the year.

                “Hello,” Bokuto said as he answered his phone. Someone spoke on the other line and Bokuto glanced over at Akaashi, who sat watching him. “Ah, Kuroo, what’s up?”

                There was another long pause before Bokuto scrunched up his eyebrows and sighed. “Yea, yea, I will be there soon,” he said before hanging up the phone and turning to face Akaashi. “Ah, I’m sorry ‘kaashi. It looks like we got a lead on our case and they need me back at the station.”

                Akaashi stood up and wiped his hands on the front of his pants. “That is alright, Bokuto-san. I enjoyed our time together.”

                Bokuto grabbed his hand and led them out of the arboretum. He kissed Akaashi firmly before leaving to drive to the station. Akaashi watched him drive off before turning in the direction of the train station. He didn’t have any other plans left, so he figured he could do some extra shopping before heading back to their apartment. He had picked up some nice things, but he still felt that something was missing to make the gifts special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the whole first scene was just to get my smut feelers out. This whole chapter is just full of hints at subtle characterization. I'm also a big fan of symbolism and scene lighting and other stuff like that, so be prepared for that in the future chapters.  
> Next chapter: A murder takes place.


	3. A Warm Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murder and dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I apologize for taking forever to get this chapter out! I have returned to University so I was getting resituated with being on campus before I worked on this piece. Now the chapter, well get ready for some mild gore followed by something sweeter to the taste.

They don’t know what possessed them to go out into the night; but they were here, overlooking the city as it glowed with life. It was late into the night that the only people out were party-goers or those unlucky enough to be given the graveyard shift. Well, tonight everyone out might just be unlucky. There was nothing very compelling that drew their attention to wander the streets, only the urge to do what they’ve been denying themselves for many months. Sometimes it was easier to ignore, but tonight the itch was unbearable.

                They threw the cigarette bud they had been smoking into the gutters and walked briskly into the night. Nobody bothered them, probably instinctively knowing that they should be avoided. That was good, the more people moved away from them the better. They were looking for just one person tonight, someone to suit their certain tastes.

                Hours passed until they spotted the boy. He was young, pale cheeks red from drink, and wobbling on the pavement alone. One hand was shoved into his pockets and the other on the walls, attempting to keep him steady. He mumbled to himself, something low and unintelligible. He tripped on the pavement, shoes catching on the uneven cement. He stayed where he was for a moment, before correcting himself and continuing down the quieting street.

                They braced themselves, hand wrapped around tightly on the knife they brought and moved to cut off the boy’s path. He lifted his head right before they made impact, knocking him off course and into a dark alleyway.

                “Hey,” he snapped, trying to keep from falling again. “ _Who the fuck are you?_ ” His voice was slurred and he waved absently at his attacker. His arm was pinned behind him with a swift movement and he cursed underneath his breath. He was shoved and his chin connected with the nearest wall.

                There was no panic in his eyes, just surprise and irritation. They wanted panic, they wanted to see his eyes blown back in complete fear, the only type of blood-chilling fear you get when you were really faced with your imminent death. When he turned around to face his attacker they pulled out the knife. Keeping it low, but in his line of sight.

                “What the fuck do you—” his eyes went down to the shiny piece of metal in his attacker’s hand. Slow realization crept over his face and they smiled lazily. “Wh-what are you doing?”

                But he was met with no reply, because with a quick swing of their arm and the knife was embedded into his gut. He doubled over, stepping back and clutched the knife handle. His hands slipped on the blood that was able to flow out. His back hit the wall and his knees buckled.

“Call an ambulance,” he mumbled. His voice was strained and a trail of blood ran down the side of his mouth. “Please, an ambulance.”

They watched as he lay down on the cold concrete. He wasn’t going to die from the wound, not that quickly, and they didn’t want an immediate death. He would be weak from the blood loss and the pain, unable to put up much of a fight and easy to rip apart. They towered over him, watching the fear in his eyes as he attempted to stop the blood. They knelt down next to him, but far enough that they wouldn’t get splattered by the blood as they pulled the knife from his gut.

“Please,” the boy begged. Tears streaming out of his eyes as his hand covered the wound. “Please, just call an ambulance. I’ll die.”

They didn’t reply, but tugged on his jacket to roll him onto his back. His chest rose with every fast breath he had. His eyes were unseeing, searching for something or someone to save him. There would be no one, this part of town was always vacant after hours and even if he screamed, it would be swallowed up into the night air.

And boy, would he scream.

 

* * *

 

 

                “The day already started and I want it to be over,” Bokuto whined. He stood, bouncing from foot to foot in the cold winter air, steaming cup of coffee between his hands. He leaned his head back to groan. “Uh, why is this taking so long?”

                Kuroo chuckled. “It’s a stakeout, Bo. We don’t get to call ourselves Great Detectives unless we lose a couple toes to frostbite.”

                Bokuto frowned. “I like my toes.”

                “Ah, just remember that the quicker we finish the job, the quicker we get back to seeing our boyfriends in aprons.”

                “Oh, yea, keep talking dirty, Kuroo.”

                They both snickered. Kenma and Akaashi had took it upon themselves to make dinner. Kenma only had an early appointment down at the tattoo parlor which caused him to be up by the time Kuroo left. Having Akaashi back in town had his boyfriend eager to seize the day. Kuroo wouldn’t stand in his way if it meant he could see him in shorts bent over dusting or with his hair pinned up with flour on his cheek.

                They settled back into silence, watching the front of the apartment building. Many people came and left, but none of them fitting the description they were looking for. Most of his job consisted of just this, long hours waiting around or chasing trails they managed to pick up. Whenever the trail was able to bear fruit, the real hunt began. The one Kuroo lived for.

                Kuroo was just about to check the time for the hundredth time this morning, but he was stopped by movement in the corner of his eyes. Bokuto must have seen it as well, because he stopped his bouncing around and slowly sat his coffee down.

                “That’s our guy,” Bokuto said. Kuroo nodded; tall, skinny, and a mess of brown hair, that was the constant description given by the people they questioned. If there was one guy their victim had been seeing, it was him, a _senpai_ in her major who had taught as a TA and was currently in grad school.

                “We’ll wait until we’ve limited his escape options. We’ve gone over possible routes to work, so we’ll cut him off somewhere in the middle. Wait ‘til my signal. I’ll cut off his front and you follow up with his back, alright,” Kuroo said quickly as he moved with Bokuto.

                “Gotcha coach,” Bokuto said cheerfully, moving to tag behind the suspect.

                Kuroo flipped his collar up to protect himself from the cold winter air. The direction the suspect was walking meant that Kuroo would need to use his long legs as an advantage if he wanted to successfully cut him off. Good thing the suspect was settled into a leisurely stroll. He waited until he thought he was at the halfway point before stepping directly into the sidewalk, almost causing the suspect to bump into him.

                He pulled his headphones out, annoyed. “What the hell, man. Can’t you keep your head—”

                “Kuroo Tetsurou,” he said, pulling out his badge and displaying it. “Minn Joo-won? We have a couple questions for you, if you would come with us to the station.”

                “W-what is this about?” he stuttered. His eyes were frantically searching for a way to escape. Kuroo raised his hand and watched Bokuto get into position.

                “This is about a recent case, about your girlfriend who ended up dead in an alley.”

                “Shit,” he muttered, before turning around and running right into Bokuto’s opened arms. Bokuto caught him and spun him to restrain him on the ground, reciting him his rights as he cuffed his hands behind his back. Minn attempted to throw Bokuto off, but Bokuto had weight on him and kept a firm hold on him.

                Kuroo kneeled down by his head where he was spitting obscenities at the two. “You could have just come quietly with us, now you’ve given us a reason to apprehend you for a while, bud.”

                “Shit, shut up,” he spits on the ground, a couple inches from Kuroo’s boot. “I didn’t do anything.”

                “Yeah, well, that’s for the law to decide. Thank you for the sample of DNA by the way, if the baby does turn out to be yours then that’ll provide a motive for the court.”

                He pulls out a cotton swab from his coat pocket and finishes securing the evidence by the same time Bokuto had got Minn up and walking towards the police car they had parked off to the side. Minn had calmed down considerably and the ride to the station was quiet. He didn’t put up much of a fight when he was sat down in the questioning room and only watched Bokuto and Kuroo as they sat across from him.

                “So,” Kuroo starts, pulling out a folder, “Minn Joo-won, aged 23, currently studying at University here in Tokyo as an international student from Korea. You were going as a political science and economics major and you come from a family of politicians. You’re currently in grad school and you work part-time as a cultural consultant at a local business. Grew up in a very clean family, there hasn’t even been a parking ticket in your family for generations.”

                Minn scoffed, “What of it?”

                Bokuto pulled out pictures from the folder and spread them on the table in front of Minn. He glanced at them, then his face turned in a frown as he looked away. “This is how we found her, your girlfriend, she had bled out slowly, still clutching her stomach.”

                “She wasn’t my girlfriend. I barely knew her,” he mumbled.

                Bokuto cleared his throat and then went to continue. “Her friends said that she was enamored with you, but that’s just nice for borderline obsessed. You say you weren’t dating, but she had mentioned to all of her closest friends that she was seeing a _senpai_ outside of class.”

                “Just because she was obsessed with me doesn’t mean I would kill her.”

                “You’re right,” Kuroo said, leaning back in his seat. “But multiple people had said that they’ve seen you two outside of class, late at night, and going to common couple hot-spots; ya know, movies, bowling, stuff like that.”

                Minn looked away, jaw clenched and hands fumbling underneath the table.

                “I get it. You had a sheltered life, strict parents and an image to uphold. You probably secretly liked the attention, cute, young _kouhai_ giving you puppy eyes. You probably couldn’t help yourself when the opportunity to disobey your parents came about.”

                “Shut up,” he snapped. “What do you know about my life?”

                “Nothing, only the facts and the facts are saying that she was spending time with you outside of class, personal time.”

                Minn grit his teeth harder.

                “When the tests come back, we’ll see if she really is carrying your baby. The weapon was also found on the scene, so we’ll see if any fingerprints match yours. We’d have you with a motive and placed at the scene, Minn,” Bokuto said.

                Minn slammed his cuffed hands onto the table. “Shut up. You think I don’t know how fucked up I am?” He was seething and neither Kuroo or Bokuto said anything to allow him to collect himself. “It was never supposed to be like this, okay? You’re right, I did like the attention. I never was able to date. All my parents talked about were grades and how to further their political agenda. I did like her, she was nice, but when she told me she was pregnant and that she wanted to start a future with me, I panicked. If this came out so early, my career would be over before it started. There was no way I could have married someone without my parent’s approval. I just needed her to disappear. I didn’t mean to kill her, I just wanted to scare her a bit. I didn’t care about the baby, as long as she stayed away from me.”

                He was breathing hard after he was done, tears coming down his face and he attempted to rub them out of his eyes, but they felt falling. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t mean to kill my child, I just didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t listening to reason. I had no way to provide for her or a child. There was no way I could ask my parents for money. I was hopeless.”

                Bokuto frowned. “That’s a shitty excuse,” he said.

                “At this point it doesn’t matter how shitty it is,” Kuroo said standing up. “We have a confession, a motive, and the weapon. At this rate, there is nothing you could do, kid.”

                “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

                Kuroo turned around and gave him an even stare. “Your apologies are meaningless here.”

 

* * *

 

 

                Kenma was practically upside down with his feet in the air and torso pressed into the tight space of their extra room underground storage space. He didn’t know why someone would design something like this, almost as if it was some small-scale panic room that was discontinued half-through the construction. Did the other apartments have this feature? That didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he had to find the matching rice bowls. Kenma had put the nice set of dishes here when they first moved in; since they mostly ate off the cheaper stuff, but Bokuto and Akaashi were coming over.

                He had spent his time after work cleaning the apartment, organizing the living room, grocery shopping, and learning _nabe_ recipes. The weather was cold outside and a nice hearty meal would be perfect. He stocked up on the good _sake_ Kuroo liked and even bought a couple bottles of wine for himself. All that was left was the good set of dishes, and it seemed his perfect evening was going to be a challenge.

                His fingers caught on something and he gripped it with all his strength, muscles becoming soar as he pulled it and his weight out of the tight space. He sat with a box on his chest marked _good dishes_ and smiled. His perfect evening is still a possibility. He opened it up and pulled the dishes he was looking for out, and set the box back into the storage space, locked it and moved the desk back over it.

                He put the set of keys back into his bedroom drawer before carrying the dishes out into the living room. He had set up the hotpot on the _kotatsu_ earlier and brought the dishes out to arrange them around the table. Homemaking wasn’t a hobby of Kenma’s, but there were moments like this where he liked the idea. Setting up a warm and comforting place for him and Kuroo to return to. A place of their own, where the outside world couldn’t touch them and they understood and respected each other dearly.

                Just when he finished setting the last set of dishes up, he heard the click of the lock being opened and in stepped Kuroo. His cheeks were flushed and a slight smirk was placed over his lips as his eyes locked onto Kenma.

                “Kitten, it smells heavenly,” Kuroo said as he closed the door behind him and began stripping off his work clothes.

                “Don’t do that out here,” Kenma admonished lowly. Kuroo just returned with a smirk and then came over to kiss Kenma on the top of his head.

                “I’m home,” he murmured into Kenma’s hair.

                “Welcome back.”

                Kuroo moved to survey the living room. “Wow, you sure do get motivated.”

                “Just a little bit. I haven’t seen Akaashi in a while.”

                Kenma followed Kuroo into his bedroom, where he searched for easier clothes to wear. Kenma laid back in the bed, he was currently wearing shorts and one of Kuroo’s shirts and didn’t feel the need to change. A moment later Kuroo entered his vision when he leaned over his body, placing both hands on either side of Kenma’s face and stared down at him.

                “I’m hungry,” he purred.

                Kenma flushed, but turned his head to the side. “Bokuto and Akaashi will be here soon, you can eat then.”

                Kuroo hummed thoughtfully then leaned forward to pepper kisses on Kenma’s neck. Kenma’s hands came up to tangle in his thick hair. “Can’t I get something to hold me over until then?”

                Kenma smiled and sat up, successfully pushing Kuroo off of him. “You’re insatiable.”

                Kuroo whined behind him, but Kenma ignored him and started walking into the kitchen. “Get dressed. I got the _sake_ you like, so no pouting.”

                “I love you, kitten,” Kuroo called after him as he disappeared.

                He was carrying the rice cooker into the living room when there were three loud pounds on his front door, followed by muffled voices. Kuroo walked around him to swing the door open with wide arms.

                “Bo!”

                “Kuroo!”

                Kuroo wrapped him up in his arms and practically lifted him off the ground. Kenma crinkled his nose. “Didn’t you guys just see each other less than two hours ago?”

                “Ah, I can never get enough of my partner,” Bokuto announced as he stepped into the apartment. “Sorry for intruding, Kenma!”

                Akaashi followed behind him, hands full of different dishes stacked on each other. “Sorry for intruding, Kenma-san.”

                Kuroo took their coats and led Bokuto into the living room with the prospect of warm sake.

                “We can take those into the kitchen,” Kenma said, eyeing the dishes in Akaashi’s hands.

                Akaashi smiled. “That would be ideal. Thank you for inviting us over, Kenma. I had missed you on my travels.”

                Kenma took the top one from Akaashi and opened it to see that it was _nikujaga._ “Don’t mention it, it’s good to have you back.”

                Akaashi opened the other container to reveal a freshly baked apple pie. Kenma’s mouth watered at the sight and a quick thought to skip dinner altogether passed his mind.

                “I had to go to a bakery to secure this. I figured you would be pleased.”

                Kenma nodded. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in here while we eat.”

                Before Kenma could turn to join Kuroo and Bokuto in the living room, he was stopped by a firm hand on his forearm. He turned to face Akaashi, whose mouth was pressed into a firm line and eyebrows were scrunched in deep thought.

                “I’m glad to see you’re looking well, Kenma,” Akaashi said gently. “I was worried while I was gone.”

                Kenma looked away to a stray piece of string hanging off of Akaashi’s sweater. “Don’t worry. I’ve been feeling good lately,” he says.

                Akaashi smiles and releases his hold on Kenma. “Let’s go eat.”

                Kuroo and Bokuto were already nursing dishes of warm _sake_ when Kenma and Akaashi joined them. “We’ve been waiting for you two.”

                “Sorry, we were getting the _nikujaga_ ready,” Akaashi sat said dish down on the table before taking his seat across from Kuroo.

                Bokuto clapped his hands together enthusiastically before bellowing out a ‘ _thank you for the meal’_. They all followed after doing the same, but less excited and loud.

                “Everything smells delicious,” Bokuto said. “I didn’t know Kenma could cook.”

                Kenma blushed. “I don’t usually cook, but _nabe_ is easy enough.”

                Kuroo beamed and pulled Kenma halfway into his lap. “My kitten can grill mackerel and even makes his own _udon_ noodles.”

                “Kuro,” Kenma mumbled around a piece of _daikon_.

                “Maybe you guys should come over more often.”

                Akaashi was filling his plate up with various foods as he turned to face the two. “I would like that. I’m here for a while, and there isn’t much to do while Bokuto-san is at work.”

                “Aw, ’kaashi! Do you miss me that much?” Bokuto grinned. Akaashi indulged him with a slight nod, that only caused him to grin harder. He stroked his chin with the hand that he held his chopstick in, smearing juices on his cheek in the process. “Maybe I should get some time off so I can spoil you.”

                Akaashi used a napkin to wipe the juice off his cheek as he smiled at his boyfriend. “If you’re busy with work you don’t have to, Bokuto-san. Just being home with you is enough for me.”

                “Actually,” Kuroo said, “We just closed up a case, so we should have some free time for a while. I think Daichi-san would be more than happy to give you some time off.”

                Bokuto slammed his hand down with enough force to shake the table before saying, “Well then, it’s decided. I’ll ask for some time off next week and use it to spoil you, Akaashi.”

                Akaashi was blushing at this point. “That’s really not necessary, Bokuto-san.”

                “It’s fine, we could go sightseeing.”

                “There’s nothing new to see,” Kenma said. “Tokyo will always be the same.”

                “Kenma’s right. We should go hiking.”

                Kenma’s face scrunched up more. “Absolutely not.”

                “Why not? Toughing it out in the woods with a couple tents doesn’t sound like the date of the year?” Kuroo teased.

                “I won’t be able to charge anything,” Kenma said, frowning.

                Bokuto laughed and even Akaashi had to hide a smile from that.

                “That’s the point.”

                “It’s a stupid point.”

                “Is not.”

                “Is too.”

                The rest of the night followed light teasing and a hearty meal. Bokuto and Kuroo ended up in their usual drinking contest, while Kenma and Akaashi watched from the sidelines, talking to themselves. At some point in the night, Bokuto had ended up knocked out on their couch. Kuroo was in the bathroom, changing into a clean shirt after Bokuto had knocked the rest of his _sake_ onto him.

                “I’m sorry about Bokuto falling asleep on us,” Akaashi said as he gathered their things.

                Kenma smiled, “It’s fine. It was nice having you around.”

                “Oh,” Akaashi said, reaching into his bag. “Before I forget, I gave Kuroo-san his present earlier, but I want to give you yours.” He removed a small package that was wrapped with blue paper. “I got this during my travels and it reminded me of you.”

                Kenma took it with gentle hands and held it. “You really didn’t need to get me anything.”

                “It was no problem. I really enjoyed our time together. We should meet again soon, Kenma.”

                “Of course. I’d think that would be good.”

                Kuroo emerged from the bedroom with a fresh shirt and rosy cheeks from the alcohol. “Well, I should help you take Bokuto down to the car. Thank you again for coming over.”

                “Thank you, Kuroo-san.”

                Kenma was left alone again as they left to haul a drunken Bokuto down the apartment steps. His hands were wrapped tightly around the small package in his hand and he gave it a quick once over before turning to clean up the apartment again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter, for whatever reason. So, I hope you all enjoyed it as well.  
> Also, I plan to update probably once a month.  
> Anyways, as always thank you for reading and enjoy the new year!  
> P.S. Bokuto and Kuroo friendship is my 3rd favorite thing to imagine in the fandom.


	4. Masterpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma gets a proposition while Kuroo gets a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What better way to spend Valentine's Day than with a serial killer fic?

                “Ah! Kenma-kun, I’m glad you could make it out this morning,” Suga said, spotting Kenma sliding into the art studio. Kenma gave him a brief nod as he removed his coat and set down the various drawing canisters he brought with him.  Suga made his way over to him and grabbed his things, smiling down at him with a 100-watt smile. “Let’s take this into the backroom.”

                Kenma followed him silently, slowly taking in the atmosphere around him. Suga had various art galleries throughout Japan, even some outside the country, but his gallery in Tokyo was the newest one. Since its opening, he had spent most of his time in the city, trying to find new and unique artists to fill the walls of his gallery. Overall, he prided himself in the darker themes this one portrays, or so he told Kenma.

                “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier. I was stuck in a bit of a rut,” Kenma said as he took a seat at the large table.

                “Don’t worry about it,” Suga said as he cleared the table and turned on the overhead lights. “Anyways, it seems that you must have gotten out of your rut. You’ve never brought me so many samples before.”

                Kenma looked away as Suga sat the canisters on the table and unscrewed one. “I’ve been a bit inspired lately,” he admitted.

                “Hmm,” Suga said, eyes wide as he spread the canvas onto the table and clipped it into place. “Kuroo-san?”

                Kenma watched him from his perch at the side. “Kuro is Kuro,” he said. “But recently a close friend has come back to Tokyo, so I’ve been feeling energized.”

                “Well, whatever gets my walls covered,” Suga said. “Tell me about this piece.”

                He motioned over the canvas that was displayed on the table. The lights illuminated it perfectly so you could see every stroke of the pencil.

                “Well, they’re all rough drafts,” Kenma mumbled. “I had the basic concept down, but there were some things I couldn’t quite… grasp, yet, but I think I got it down.”

                He had spent time searching for what exactly he was missing in his artwork. He always tried not to seem immature or inexperienced, and times when he had trouble expressing a certain emotion it was always best to go do field research. Field research was defined as people watching in parks and various other places Kenma found himself wandering around in.

                “Are you thinking about only using charcoal?” Suga turned it around to see it from a different angle. “I can see what you were attempting here, but I think just the black of the charcoal cannot express it enough.”

                Kenma sighed. “I’m afraid if I start using more colors then it’ll lose its initial impact.”

                Suga smiled sweetly. “I think you can pull it off, Kenma-kun. I mean, you are my favorite.”             He couldn’t stop the blush that spread across his cheeks, but he turned his face to hide it from Suga. “Please stop your useless attempts to butter me up, Suga, I’m already working for you.”

                Suga laughed and came around to wrap an arm around Kenma’s shoulders. “Ah, you always see right through me, huh? I’m hoping that I could convince you to come to a few conventions with me, you know, as my featured artist.”

                Suga leaned back to press his two index fingers together, eyebrows pulled down, and lips pouted out. Kenma sighed, but turned back to face the table squarely. “I don’t think I’d be an ideal artist for you to feature, Suga,” he mumbled.

                “Nonsense! People love your work, come here.”

                A second later, Kenma was being ushered out of the backroom and into the studio, where people filled the space, surveying the walls and talking amongst themselves.

                “You’ve only come here on business, right? So, that means you’ve never been able to take the time and witness how people admire your work, huh?”

                Suga navigated through the crowd, leading Kenma into a different area. The pieces on the walls slowly changed until Kenma was surrounded by familiar pieces of his own work. Some had been his starting attempts, back when he was getting the feel for working with Suga, but other were his more recent works on display. Suga sat him down on a bench in a corner of the room and leaned behind him to whisper in his ear.

                “Look at what you’ve done, Kenma-kun,” he said. “All these faceless people have been captured by you what you’ve made, what your hands have done. No matter the day, I always get comments on this section of the gallery, your section, Kenma-kun. It’s good for profit, but I also don’t want to see an artist not unleashing their full potential.”

                Kenma watched as he listened to Suga’s words. There were numerous people floating around, condensed more in the area where his own works lined the walls and all of them had their eyes glued on the canvas. It was as if they couldn’t get enough of what he created, their minds soaking up every detail and he felt his chest tighten at the sight. He had done this, out of everything his hands had accomplished this must have been a top.

                Suga leaned back to sit beside him. “You have talent and the feeling of realizing that talent is like no other. I just want you to experience it and keep experiencing it.”

                “It’s like a high,” Kenma mumbled.

                Suga beamed down on him and grabbed his shoulders. “Exactly! You get it, right, Kenma-kun?”

                Kenma turned away from Suga’s proximity, but allowed himself to smile. “Yea, I think so.”

                “Then you’ll think about becoming one of my featured artists?”

                Kenma shrugged, settling his features back into their normal stare. “If I’m going to allow you to feature me, then I have to get better.” He stood abruptly and clenched his hands together. “There is still much I haven’t learned. Please allow me to find my own way of properly expressing myself on the canvas.”

                Suga’s grin was spread wide across his face and he nodded. “I only plan to take you at your best, Kenma-kun.”

 

* * *

 

 

                Kuroo lit his cigarette and placed it between his lips. “Oh, boy,” he said between drags. “Looks like we have our work cut out for us.”

                Bokuto nodded next to him, hands wrapped around himself in the cool winter air.

                “I don’t know how you can smoke at a scene like this,” Daichi said, coming from around the yellow tape to greet his two subordinates. He was initially called on scene since the body was found early in the morning, but after Kuroo and Bokuto officially clocked in, this case was delegated to them.

                “Eh, it’s a nervous tick whenever I get a new case,” he replied, quickly snuffing it out on the nearby brick building. “What did you bring us this time?”

                Daichi sighed, but flipped open a folder to summarize their new case. “The body was found early this morning, but getting an exact time of death will be hard due to the below freezing temperatures stalling the decaying process. But our guy believes it could have been just sitting here for more than a day.”

                Bokuto frowned. “So, you’re telling me that this body has been left out for more than a day?”

                “Exactly,” Daichi said, handing over the folder to him. “I expect a progress report by the end of the day, Kuroo, Bokuto.”

                “Yes, sir,” they both said in unison.

                Kuroo plucked the folder from Bokuto’s hands and opened it up. “They said the victim died from multiple stab wounds,” he mumbled as they got closer to the scene.

                Currently the alley was blocked off with police and yellow tape as it was being processed for evidence. The body laid where it was found, currently being covered by black tarp. Bokuto exchanged information with the police on scene while Kuroo went over to the body and crouched where he believed the head would be.

                “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with,” he said as he flipped back the tarp to reveal the body.

                It was a young male with a smaller build, dark hair and average features. He laid in a pool of his own blood and his clothes were soaked through with it. His shirt was cut open to reveal a torso littered with various stab wounds. Underneath the body and the grime, Kuroo could see how pale his skin had become.

                “They say that they couldn’t find any identification on his body,” Bokuto said, standing next to him.

                “Hmm,” Kuroo hummed. His gaze swept across the body again, taking in the details he could see. There had to be more than fifteen punctures on his body, and due to the excess amount of blood the victim must have been alive for most of them, but the condition of the body was almost peaceful, just lying there. “This doesn’t make any sense. Why didn’t he fight back?”

                Kuroo took out a pen he had in his pocket and poked the body. Rigor mortis had kicked in and combined with the temperature the body had become more than a block of ice. Kuroo prodded at the clothing, pushing back the flaps of his jacket to reveal slits cut in the forearms of the material.

                “Ah, so the culprit had cut the tendons in his arms,” Kuroo said as he stood up, “rendering him incapable of putting up much of a fight.”

                He walked around the body so he was standing at his feet and stared down at him. “It’s just an assumption, but by looking at the puncture points the culprit was probably straddling him at the waist. I’m sure the autopsy would reveal straight puncture wounds for most of them, as if the culprit was just swinging down into the victim.”

                “Eh, the whole scene is pretty grotesque, but shouldn’t his pants be soaked through with blood as well?” Bokuto said. He was standing off to the side, taking pictures and exchanging some more information with one of the police officers who stood next to him.

                “Hmm, you’re right, Bo,” Kuroo said. The victim’s pants weren’t covered in as much blood and grime as the rest of the body. “Not to mention if the culprit was straddling his waist then they would be covered in as much blood as the victim. Even if this is a quiet place that nobody stumbled on the body for a whole day, walking back home covered in blood would be impossible.”

                _Which means_ , Kuroo thought as he spun around, scanning over the area. It was a typical alley way, dirty and dark, the back end of old rundown apartment buildings, and there wasn’t much outside of garbage dumpsters and discarded boxes.

                Kuroo made his way over to the garbage dumpster and lifted it open. The smell hit him immediately, but he staved off the bile rising up in his throat as he peered into the bin. If nobody had found the body for a whole day, then that meant the traffic area in this area must be slow. On slower days, civil servants such as garbage collectors often neglect their duties by skipping stops to save time and money.

                “Hey, does anyone have a flashlight?” Kuroo called out to no one in particular. After one of the nearby officers handed him a small flashlight he clicked it on and peered into the bin. “Bingo, Bokuto you’re a genius!”

                Bokuto’s ears perked up where he was in the middle of a conversation with a police officer, but he puffed his chest out to the unexpected praise. “Of course, I am.”

                “I’m going to need a couple hands to help me tip this over,” Kuroo said as he shoved the light into his back pocket.

                “What’s going on?” Bokuto asked as he came over with a few officers.

                “When you mentioned how his pants weren’t soaked with blood, I figured the culprit must have worn something a bit waterproof.”

                When everyone had assembled, they tipped the bin over with a loud clang and its contents spilled out. Bokuto covered his nose with his sleeve and took a step back from the smell. “Shit, this is terrible.”

                “I know, but bear with it for a second,” Kuroo said as he knelt next to the pile, sifting through it with his pen. “Ah-ha,” he said, lifting some sort of cloth material with his pen. It was thoroughly stained with blood and the front of it was made of some sort of thick plastic. “What is this called again?”

                “It’s a smock, isn’t it? One of those things we used as a kid to not get our clothes dirty whenever it was arts and crafts time, right?” Bokuto said. “Why would they leave that in such an obvious place?”

                “That’s because,” Kuroo said as he lowered the evidence into a marked plastic bag, “I believe the culprit is fucking with us.”

                Bokuto frowned, but didn’t say more for a while as Kuroo sifted through the rest of the garbage. After a while he finally blurted out, “Why would you think that?”

                Kuroo chuckled, but looked up to meet Bokuto’s even gaze. “The culprit even left the murder weapon,” he said as he tapped his pen on the handle of a bloody knife.

  

* * *

 

 

                “Kuroo-san, it’s been awhile,” she said as the detective followed her into the morgue.

                “That just means my work has been easy for a bit,” he said, “but it looks like it’ll start picking up.”

                “Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully as she pulled out the current folders. “You’re right. You barely come to see the body in person on the easier cases. That’s the full autopsy report.”

                “Thank you, Shimizu-chan.” He took the folder, but made no move to open it just yet. “Sorry you had to rush the autopsy on this one. I didn’t want to give it much time to thaw out.”

                She hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t reply. Shimizu made her way over to the wall of pull-out chambers and tapped a door with her finger. “I’ll leave you alone for now,” she said before moving to collect a pile of papers and exiting the room.

                Kuroo sighed and put his hand on the handle. He had to stay a bit later than he wanted so he could at least get a full picture of the case. Kenma understood and he had plans with Akaashi anyways, so his absence wasn’t going to be greatly missed, but Kuroo still wanted to finish as fast as possible.

                He pushed out one last sigh before getting to work. Shimizu’s reports were as detailed as ever and he smiled to himself, grateful for his co-worker’s thoroughness. She had mapped out all the areas of concern in the pictures, probably already knowing that Kuroo would come to see the body as soon as she was tasked with it.

                The victim died from severe blood loss due to the multiple stab wounds inflicted on him. A majority of the stab wounds were inflicted before the victim died. Shimizu marked one stab wound with a star and the caption: ‘possibly the first wound inflicted’. It was a deep stab wound on the side of the victim and Kuroo took note of it as he surveyed the victim.

                By the end of his time there, he was sure that the culprit was playing with them. He was also sure that he would enjoy catching the bastard.

 

* * *

 

 

                Kenma sat at his desk and twirled the pendant in his hands. It was a wooden comb, lacquered with a deep red finish and adored with golden olive branches. Akaashi had attached a note of how he bought it in a small village market in South America. They said wearing such things could banish evil spirits from one’s lives if used properly. Even though he knew that Akaashi wasn’t a very religious man, he enjoyed indulging in certain cultural traditions.

                He ran the comb through his hair a couple times before using it to pin his hair up into a messy bun. He could see the gold it snuggly in his hair and smiled. Kenma sighed and leaned back on the couch. Akaashi had called him in the morning and asked him about his dinner plans. He offered to bring food and a good documentary he had watched while away at work and Kenma couldn’t really say no, especially when someone else was willing to cook.

                Just when Kenma was dozing off he heard a knock at his door. Groggily, he got up to open it to Akaashi wrapped up like a burrito. “Sorry for making you come over in this cold,” Kenma said as he took his coat.

                “It just takes me some time to get used to the climate here. I’ve spent the previous months in shorts and a sun hat,” Akaashi says, following behind Kenma with bags in his arms. “I brought takeout. I hope that’s alright.”

                “Any food is alright,” Kenma said as he took his food from Akaashi.

                “Oh, I see you are enjoying your present,” Akaashi said as he poked the comb in Kenma’s hair.

                Kenma instantly felt his cheeks warm up, but he turned to walk into the living room. “It is a very nice present.”

                “Then I’m happy you are appreciating it.”

                Kenma settled into the couch with his takeout on his lap and blanket thrown over his shoulders. “So, what is this documentary about?”

                "Indigenous culture in South America,” Akaashi said as he placed the DVD into the player.

                Kenma smiled around a mouthful of food. “That sounds like something you would bring over.”

                “Of course,” Akaashi said. He took a seat next to Kenma and tucked his feet underneath himself. “This is my work.”

                Kenma hummed as a response and a comfortable silence fell over them as the documentary came on. It was in another language, but had Japanese subtitles on the bottom of the screen. The food was good and the documentary ended up being interesting enough to hold Kenma’s attention. He made a pot of tea for the both of them and handed Akaashi his mug and sat down next to him.

                “I’m glad you enjoyed the documentary, but I really came over for something else today,” Akaashi said after some time. Kenma didn’t reply, just sat patiently for Akaashi to continue. “I wanted to give you another piece of your present.”

                “You didn’t have to get me anything else,” Kenma murmured.

                Akaashi shook his head. “Don’t worry. I actually picked this up after I got back to Tokyo, so please don’t feel too put out about it.”

                “I’m sure I will like it nonetheless.”

                Akaashi turned to the bag he brought along with him and pulled out a medium sized box. Kenma set down the mug he was cradling and took it from Akaashi. It was pretty light and it didn’t rattle as he felt the weight.

                “Open it up,” he said.

                Kenma sat the box down in his lap and removed the ribbon from the top, letting it fall across his lap. He set the discarded top to the table and pulled out what looked like wrapped animal skin. A thin string secured the skin tightly closed and his nimble finger quickly untied it. Inside were a couple sets of black pencils, each tucked in place the animal skin.

                “Apparently, they are supposed to be some high-quality drawing pencils. When I asked someone at the store they told me that it was a newer design and made it easier to shade and erase. I figured you could use it in your works.”

                “Thank you. I was meaning to go buy some new drawing pencils.” He took one out of its place and held it in his hand. It was a skinny pencil, a different brand and type than he was used to working with, but he could tell that they were good quality just from looking at them.

                Akaashi stood up and gathered his things. “I should head back. Bokuto should be home soon and he’s been clingy since I’ve returned.”

                Kenma smiled. He knew very well how Bokuto liked to hog his boyfriend after his long absences and he thought the act was a bit endearing. He chatted with Akaashi as they walked to the front door and he parted with plans to meet up later that week.

                Before Kenma could begin cleaning up their dishes, he stopped to pick up the pack of new pencils. They must have been expensive, even the wrapping was composed with the idea of maximizing the product’s aesthetics. He placed them with the rest of his art supplies in their extra room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Get ready for some painting!

**Author's Note:**

> Also, feel free to add me on snapchat: @new_groovee


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